


I Wanna Make You Move Because You're Standing Still

by NohrianScum (OrderOfRevan)



Series: Let Me Be Your Killer King [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Modern AU, Organized Crime AU, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 19:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrderOfRevan/pseuds/NohrianScum
Summary: Ryoma meets a mysterious man in a night club and the two decide to have a little fun...Though it might turn out to be more than he bargained for.Still, Ryoma always has liked to live dangerously.





	I Wanna Make You Move Because You're Standing Still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwiExMachina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiExMachina/gifts).



> I named this fic in the way the person I dedicated it to might. 
> 
> Thank you for your kindness. 
> 
> It really is more than I deserve.

It was apparent within two minutes of taking a swallow of the beer that the booze at this place was cheap and that the staff couldn’t be assed to care one way or another. Of course it catered to drunk college kids, which he very much was not, even if he was here to keep a watchful eye on one such kid. The intent was to make sure he didn’t get himself into any trouble he couldn’t get himself out of, of course, but in his quiet, brotherly vigil, there wasn’t much to do but drink the cheap-ass beer and hope something interesting happened. 

So far it hadn’t. 

In fact, this place was pretty much the opposite of interesting. The music was horrible because the DJ had probably gone deaf from playing it too loudly, the venue was edgy in the way that bad cyberpunk was edgy, and the entire place smelled like stale booze and cigarettes. 

Not an ideal combination. 

Turning around in his seat, he looked out at the writhing bodies on the dance floor, his brother standing out underneath the black light. He stood out like a glow stick, his long hair already starting to come loose from the messy bun atop his head as he danced in the midsts of a group of women that Ryoma thought he recognized. Takumi’s schoolmates, maybe? 

He appeared to be enjoying himself, at least, letting loose like no one was watching, which made Ryoma think his little brother was just a bit buzzed. Not that it really mattered, of course, as long as there was a designated driver somewhere or they took a cab or something equally sensible. After all, Ryoma could spend all night here… 

He had work in the morning had had to get home before one tonight. 

Leaning back, Ryoma’s eyes scanned the dance floor, caught and held by an odd sight on their outskirts -- 

A man dressed like he’d just gotten off of a nine to five desk job in slacks and a button up stood completely still just beyond the reach of the gyrating bodies. He was tall, towering over nearly everyone else there, his hair so pale it nearly glowed blue underneath the black lights, eyes sweeping across the crowd as if he were looking for someone. 

Curious, Ryoma fumbled for his wallet, placed some bills on the counter, and made his way through the mass of drunk young adults, braving their flailing arms and lack of hand-eye coordination for a better look at the statuesque stranger. Handsome guys with wild hair wearing tight shirts that showed off the shape of their body were par for the course in these kinds of places, but businessmen? 

Not so much. 

It took him a few moments to work his way around the room, and when he reached the other side of the crowd, he was grateful to find that the man was still there, staring just like he had before. The furrow between his brow was so intense that there was a moment Ryoma almost wondered if he was a cop trying to bust someone, but he honestly didn’t have the right look to him. He wasn’t rough enough looking, even with the sharp features and those damn dark eyes, so intense they seemed to stare  _ through _ people rather than  _ at _ them. 

Leaning against one of the support pillars, Ryoma looked at him for a moment longer, freezing when he felt those eyes travel over him, meeting his gaze and holding it. There was a certain command to them, the look of a man who knew what he was doing, and when he started walking towards Ryoma?

Ryoma knew he wouldn’t be able to move. 

It was like he’d become part of the concrete pillar behind him. 

“I’m looking for someone who might be able to answer my question,” the man said once he was close enough to Ryoma that they could speak, which was near enough that Ryoma could feel the man’s body heat. “You don’t look like you’re prone to dance any time soon.”

“I was looking at you,” Ryoma said, tilting his head back to look up into the tall stranger’s face, “no offense, but you look out of place here in your business attire.”

“I assumed I would,” the man said, blonde curls falling into his dark eyes as he glanced back out a the gyrating mass of clubbers. “I’m not from around here, but I heard from a coworker that it was…” The man took a deep breath and leaned back his head, Ryoma admiring the way his shoulders moved underneath the taught fabric of his shirt. “Frankly, I’m surprised I’m even here.” 

“So what is it?” Ryoma asked, pushing away from the wall and stepping effortlessly into the man’s space, figuring that Takumi would be fine if he were left out of sight for just a little while. “Chasing the next high? Sick of your boring corporate life? Searching for something more?” 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and laughed, grinning up at the man, who stiffened as Ryoma came closer. This close, Ryoma smelled his cologne, sharpe and clean, not too much or too little, and preferable to that stale beer smell by far. 

“If it weren’t for that furrow between your brow, I’d say you’re a bit too young for a mid-life crisis,” Ryoma said with a chuckle, wondering what the man looked in lighting that wasn’t complete shit. 

Brief frustration flashed across the man’s features but he quickly pushed whichever reaction he was having away. “Could you…” the man reached up and ran his hand over the bottom of his face, huffing out a sigh. “How do people ask for things like this on a regular basis?”

Looking at him, it was easy to see the anxiety etched into his face, and if he was here for anything illegal, which he probably was, it was clearly his first time. Leaning forward ever so slightly, Ryoma put a hand on his arm, feeling the way the other man tensed underneath his touch. “Breathe. Listen… If this is about some kind of escape from your mundane life… We can talk about it away from the thudding bass and the grinding bodies.” 

The man seemed to consider him for a reluctant moment before nodding, following Ryoma when he turned away, the music fading into nothing more than a dull thump as they wound their way through the hallways. Ryoma was secretly a bit glad he’d been to this building before, knowing exactly where to take this stiff businessman, leading him to a comfortable room with a large couch, where he sat down, making sure to take up as much room as possible. 

Still hesitant, the man sat beside him, staring at the table in front of them, the click of the door behind them making him jump. 

“So, blondie, tell me what’s on your mind,” Ryoma said, reaching out to place a hand against the man’s arm again. “You’re awful tense.”

He watched as the stranger’s eyes darted between Ryoma and the door, as if judging distance, before he sighed heavily and rolled his neck. His head fell forward and he released a breath, seemingly staring at the hands that he had laced together in his lap. “My name is Xander,” he said, “and I… I really need something to... “

He trailed off, seeming to be at a loss, barely noticing as Ryoma’s hand slid down to his elbow. 

“Xander?” he muttered, liking the sound of the name, though… “That’s a bit archaic, isn’t it? Short for Alexander, maybe?”

“No. Just Xander,” the man replied, his head snapping up, looking towards Ryoma only to find them practically nose to nose, recoiling only slightly. “Are you… Do you even know what I’m looking for…?” 

“Sure,” Ryoma said, dropping his hand from Xander’s elbow, placing it on a couch cushion just shy of the businessman’s leg. “You’re looking to chase a high, some kind of drug to make you forget whatever mundanity your life’s been drenched in at the shitty nine to five you work.”

This close, he could see the bob of the adam’s apple in Xander’s neck as he swallowed and was filled with the obscene urge to lick it, wanting to chase that smell to its source. In better lighting, the man looked like he’d walked out of the pages of some damn European Folkloric legend, the sort of over six foot giant who should be wielding a claymore and riding on horseback. 

“Yes,” Xander finally admitted in an exhalation of breath, his body tensing as Ryoma’s hand slowly brushed across the outside of his thigh, fingers moving slowly towards his hip. 

“You could talk to pretty much anyone here and they’d give you something,” Ryoma admitted, his lips quirking into a bit of a smile as he thought about those muscular legs twitching underneath the slow drag of his fingers, “but you came to me. Why?”

“Why?” said that deep voice, rough enough that it settled at the base of Ryoma’s spine, its tone a bit bemused even as Ryoma reached out with his other hand to slowly tuck a strand of golden hair behind an ear. 

“Yes. Of all the people in the club, you talked to me.” Ryoma slowly shifted, rising up on his knees so that he was looking down at Xander, who was staring up at him with eyes slightly wide… His pupils blown out. “So why me?”

“You were… alone,” Xander managed, even as Ryoma swung a leg over his lap, straddling the man’s hips, reaching out to run his fingers through that glorious mop of sun-spun hair. “I… I felt safer speaking to someone who was… Not otherwise engaged.” 

Hands reached out, grasping his hips, large and calloused and not quite what you’d expect from an office worker. 

But who knew? The man might have rough hobbies. 

Right now, Ryoma didn’t really care. 

“We’re alone now,” he muttered, leaning forward and tilting his head, grinning as he brought his lips mere centimeters from the trembling businessman beneath him, “and there are better ways to get a high than from drugs. Like the dopamine rush you’ll get if you fuck me.” 

His answer came in the form of fingers tangled in his hair and a deep groan as his lips were pressed against Xander’s in something that might be called a kiss in a technical sense. There was tongue and teeth, eager and hungry, as Xander seized a handful of his ass and pressed him closer, squeezing and massaging without any sort of preamble. 

Fingers knotted in Xander’s mane, he dragged his fingers across the other man’s scalp before pressing down his hips and starting to grind against him. Ryoma wanted so badly to feel Xander get hard against his ass, wanted to know how big he was underneath those stupid, nondescript slacks. He wanted them down Xander’s ankles so he could watch the muscles in those thighs flex as Xander pumped into him, to see sweat bead on that furrowed brow as the man came undone inside of him. 

Breaking the kiss, Xander all but kneading his ass now with Ryoma pressed against his chest, arching against him, he slowly lowered his head. First, he kissed the corner of Xander’s mouth, then the sharp jut of his jaw, then bit playfully on his earlobe before he scraped his teeth down the other man’s neck, listening to the way he swore in a breathy voice and drinking it in like he was parched. 

“Let me mark you somewhere, babe,” Ryoma whispered against his neck, nipping gently. “Somewhere no one but you can see, that way, when you look at yourself you think of me.” His fingers rose to Xander’s collar, popping open a few of the buttons, kissing and sucking a trail further down, across his collarbone. “And then maybe, just maybe, you’ll touch yourself and think about me while doing it.”

A sharp buck of Xander’s hips and a groan from beneath him made him grin against that milky-pale skin. “Yes --! Anything! Just as long as you let me unzip my damn fly!” 

Ryoma laughed warmly, reaching a hand between them to cup Xander, squeezing him through his damnably tight pants. “Fuck, you’re big,” he said approvingly before biting down on the skin just beneath Xander’s collarbone, intending to leave a bruise dark enough to see for a long time. 

Always let your conquests know who had given them the time of their lives. 

Call it his calling card. 

When Xander seized him by the hair and pulled him away with an impatient growl, Ryoma felt his own cock jump in his pants, his eyes widening as he stared at the other man for a fraction of a second. Without any sort of preamble, the man beneath him unbuttoned and unzipped Ryoma’s pants, licking his lips as he stared into his face with eyes so dark that Ryoma felt they might swallow him completely. “If you want me to fuck you,” he said in a low voice, “I suggest you find lube quickly.” 

Stumbling away from Xander, it took Ryoma a moment of rummaging through drawers to find what he wanted. He’d already known it was here, even though this was a cheap ass club, but there was no way they’d ever leave these rooms unstocked for this kind of activity -- a professional courtesy, one of the reasons people went to shit holes like this in the first place. 

Kicking his pants off over his shoes, he turned back around to find Xander staring at him, fully erect and stroking himself, shirt partially unbuttoned, pants down around his ankles. Breath hitching ever so slightly at the thought of that inside of him, Ryoma walked back towards his impromptu lover and shoved the container into his hand, leaning forward and nipping playfully on Xander’s earlobe. 

“Come on, babe,” he purred, looping his arms around Xander’s neck, “put your fingers inside of me so we can get to the main event.” 

He watched as Xander almost tore the cap off with his teeth, wondering just how pent up the man was to be this desperate … Not that he minded. The more pent up and desperate, the harder he was likely to fuck, and frankly? After the week Ryoma was having, that was exactly what he needed. 

Within moments, Xander had pulled Ryoma back against his chest, his hands kneading Ryoma’s ass as he kissed him again with force. He arched, pressing himself flat against Xander’s chest as he listened to the sounds of the man lubing his fingers and then… Then felt the slow press of the first inside of him, his mouth falling open as he forced himself to relax and take it, fingers twinning in the fabric of Xander’s shirt. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, Xander relentless as he pushed the finger in and out, skillful enough that he had Ryoma pressing desperately into his touch before long. 

Arching, he licked his lips and braced against Xander, making a show for him as he stared down into his face, reaching up to tear the tie out of his hair. He made a show of it, of fucking himself on Xander’s finger, though he had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from crying out when he felt the second one push inside of him. 

He heard Xander growl, his free hand working their way between them to roughly stroke Ryoma’s cock, driving Ryoma into a frenzy as his fingers dug into Xander’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. If Xander noticed, he didn’t seem to care, curling his fingers groaning at the way Ryoma threw his head back, leaning forward to nip and suck at the bit of flesh that his low-cut shirt exposed. 

It was only when Xander reached out to try to tug Ryoma’s shirt off that he slapped Xander’s hand away. He didn’t want to ruin his fun night with this businessman by bringing up unpleasant things about his own line of work that were better off avoided. 

Better not to let the man who was doing such a great job servicing you know that you were a member of the yakuza. 

Thankfully, Xander seemed so focused on what he was doing as he pressed a third finger into Ryoma that he didn’t try again. His hand even went back to stroking Ryoma fiercely enough that he felt he could cum at any moment, enough that he had to reach out with one hand to grasp the other man’s wrist and pull him off. 

“Come on babe,” he panted, “cumming like that is no fun. I want to do it when your cock’s in my ass.”

Xander laughed in response, the deep sound sending shivers up Ryoma’s spine. 

“As you wish,” he rumbled, pulling Ryoma back down by his hair and into a frenzied kiss as he removed his fingers.

He pulled away, licking his lips as he watched Xander fumble with the lubricant, covering his hand which went to his cock to stroke it roughly. Mouth going dry, Ryoma watched him, standing completely still until he wasn’t able to stand not having something inside of him for a moment longer. 

Sauntering back over, he swung his legs over Xander’s hips, wrapped his arms around his neck, and then kissed him with the hunger of a man who needed to be fucked into a state of relaxation. 

“Go,” he muttered as he pulled away, “and don’t hold back. I want to feel all of you.” 

Xander gripped his hip tightly with one hand, and then guided himself inside with the other, groaning loudly when Ryoma pushed himself down to meet Xander’s hips. They both let out groans of pleasure, Xander’s hold on his hips tightening as they began a brutal pace, Ryoma arching his back and trying to meet every thrust of Xander’s hips, feeling himself stretched just the way he wanted to be. 

It wasn’t brutal, but it was fast and hard, the man beneath him gasping and groaning as he pressed hungry, open mouthed kisses against Ryoma’s skin. Each time he lifted Ryoma up and slammed him back down, the feeling began to mount, his cock practically weeping with a desire to be touched as Xander used him to get off. 

“Good, babe,” he panted, grinding his hips just to hear the way Xander growled for him. “So good. Oh fuck… Oh fuck…!” 

With one armed looped around Xander’s neck, the other found his own cock as he pumped himself out of time, furiously trying to cum. His hair was soaked with sweat, and he would need to take a shower, but if he played it right he could fantasize about these beautiful shoulders and, perfect legs, and the feeling of being full of a gorgeous man. 

“You look… Good,” he heard Xander rasp into his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, sending rivulets of pleasure down Ryoma’s sweat-slicked body. “You feel better.” 

“I aim to please,” Ryoma managed with a groan that bit off into a chuckle. “Oh, God, babe. Harder!”

Xander shifted, taking Ryoma in his arms as he spun them around Ryoma,’s back pressed into the cushions as Xander slammed into him with a force and a speed he had only dreamed of. The man had big, powerful legs and the sort of stamina that college frat boys could only dream of having, the burn and pressure he was generating perfect. Grunting, he slapped Ryoma’s hand away from his own cock, reaching for it as he braced himself against the wall, Ryoma’s hands with nothing left to do but cling to the cushions as he cried out, all coherent thought pushed from his mind by wet friction. 

Neither of them lasted much longer after that, Xander bottoming out inside of Ryoma with a cry that harmonized with the pounding of the bass beyond their little sanctuary. Ryoma, still hard, groaned and cursed, his eyes going wide as Xander pulled out and then fell to his knees, quickly wrapping his lips around Ryoma’s cock and sucking and teasing until he came inside of that perfect mouth -- 

Hot, so hot Ryoma couldn’t fucking stand more than a few moments inside. 

Xander, staring at Ryoma the entire time, swallowed it all. 

“Consider it a courtesy,” he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, standing clumsily in pants that had been pulled down around his ankles. “You’re already going to have to clean up -- No need to make it worse.” 

“Glad they put ashtrays in here. I need a smoke after that,” Ryoma said with a laugh, and then rummaged for his own pants, reaching in them for a piece of paper before finding what he was looking for, taking a pen from the table. 

Quickly, he scribbled down a number, paused, and then wrote down a second before he handed it to Xander, a small smile on his lips. 

“If you still want to see about loosening up in other ways, the first number is the number of a guy I know. Never bought from him myself, considering I prefer nicotine and booze, but I know people who have,” Ryoma said, wanting to do nothing more than to just sit here and smoke bonelessly until he felt like he could move, grinning lazily up at Xander. 

“And the other number?” Xander asked, arching his still furrowed brows, his hands face covered in sweat as he reached out for kleenexes, cleaning himself off meticulously. 

“That’s my number, babe,” he said with a laugh. “Name’s Ryoma. Call me anytime you need some stress relief.” 

Those dark eyes slid over him, and oddly enough, as the man tucked the card into his pocket and he caught a flash of burnished bronze metal on black leather, he had the feeling that Xander might just take him up on that offer after all…. 

Even if it got them balls deep in more trouble than it was really worth. 

And honestly?

He couldn’t wait. 


End file.
